My family is just a leeeetle-bit strange. We march to different drummers most of us, hell I dance and boogie to mine. We know what each other is thinking before it’s spoken. We know when one is about the call another. I’m not sure if all families do this but me, my ma, my sis and my gramma do and it’s nice because it’s our little “sixth sense” and we know when someone needs us or just wants to chat.
But this post isn’t about our ESP(n)…no, this post is about how freaky-deaky we are.
We NAME our ailments. My mom has Chloe the Clot, my sis has way too many to name (I remember she named a hemorrhoid once before; she’ll love me for posting about that, BTW!) and I have had quite a few myself; most recently being Scar Tissue Tessie and Kelly Keloid. But you see, it turns out that Tessie and Kelly are the same and I was wrong about them.
It seems as though Tessie and Kelly are actually Hazel the Hernia. I could be wrong again though since I haven’t seen a doc about Tessie/Kelly/Hazel but with my recent degree as Doctor of Googleology I have diagnosed myself. I could probably perform my own surgery is she weren’t in such a precarious position.
See, I have had two c-sections and Hazel popped up right above my scar. She’s been protruding for a few months and she’s now hurting and turning an angry shade of purple/red. What my degree (M.D.G) has shown me is that when they get angry it’s not any good really. Could mean a few things and I won’t think about those things because my luck I’ll end up with a damn colostomy bag. Thank goodness Sis is a nurse, she can come clean me up after I shit myself, which will happen because I also have no gall bladder so I already shit myself but now it’ll just be in a bag!
Whoa…look at that tangent I went on. That’s the nice thing about people not reading your blog, you can just write whatever and NO ONE will read it! LOL Kidding, people do read my blog and either I’ve lost them forever now or I’ve gained way too many who love reading about shit and shit-in-a-bag.
Anyway, back to Hazel. We’ll have to plan a trip to the ER one day and get Hazel taken care of, sooner rather than later. She’s causing me quite a bit of pain and she’s just not sexy to look at. Who am I kiddin’? I can’t even see her without a mirror ’cause my obese self has a huge fat roll. But that’s another blog for another day. My ma and Chris have already said they’d come down and take me back to their home so I can recoup. This is a good thing since I won’t be able to pick up my sweet chubby Bubby for a week or more.
So, why am I telling you about Hazel oh readers of my interweb thingy…all so I can show you a pic that I promised on Twitter last night. I really wanted to clone Hazel out of my pic and place her on a pic of someone hot…some model…but figured I’d be sued and all that jazz so I just went ahead and Picnik’ed the picture to add some lovely black rectangles ’cause I KNOW you don’t want to see it all! Without further ado:
You can’t really get what this is all about in a pic but it’ll give you some idea. This will also give you an idea of how badly I need a TAN!
The Four Pates 